


and i thought you might be mine (in the right place and time)

by evanescent



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Assassins AU, F/F, asuka and mari as assassin gfs isn't that cool, mentions of death blood and weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2170770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanescent/pseuds/evanescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recently, someone has been meddling with Asuka’s assignments. She is determined to kick this someone into the dust — but in the end, things take different turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i thought you might be mine (in the right place and time)

**Author's Note:**

> well this is a fic that helped me to shake off writing block, more or less. the only excuse i have is that i wanted to write about assassins girlfriends so there.
> 
> title taken from knee socks by arctic monkeys

Out of many things Asuka hates, someone screwing up her jobs is second only to being second best. It doesn’t happen often, but this time, it starts a long chain of various events.

Tonight’s target is in a room 317 of one Tokyo’s four-star hotels in Akasaka. Misato told her the job needed to be done quickly and without raising any alarms, so she manages to steal a room card, wearing maid’s outfit. From time to time, Asuka enjoys this part of her profession -- dressing up, pretending. It makes her remember the dolls she used to play with; such a shame they didn’t have knives and shotguns.

The room is at the very end of the empty corridor by right side. She opens the door with the magnetic card and slips inside. The light are turned off, but Asuka knows the plans of the apartments well enough to take steps into the direction of bedroom. From the other room, she can hear distant sounds of Bach’s _Chromatic Fantasia_ which seems to be almost comically fitting for the moment and helpful, since it creates some background noise.

When she enters the bedroom, however, there is an unpleasant surprise awaiting her. Asuka huffs quietly and quickly checks the rest of the apartment. After doing so, she calls Misato.

“Already done?” the woman asks her, sounding like she’s flipping through some papers.

“I could be, if it wasn’t for the fact the target was dead before I even got here,” Asuka answers back, not trying to hide annoyance in her voice.

This gets Misato to fall silent for a moment. “Well, that’s unexpected,” she says eventually. “Do you think…?”

“Hm, it’s too fancy as in my opinion,” Asuka states, glancing over to the dead body in the bed and a pool of blood, “but it’s a work of a professional, no doubt.”

“A freelancer, maybe?” Misato wonders out loud.

“Shouldn’t you be the one telling me?” she hisses. “I don’t like when someone messes with me.”

“I know, I know, we will look into it,” the superior promises and Asuka rolls her eyes, thinking, Yeah, sure. “Sorry for making you go for nothing. Just exit carefully, alright?”

This time, Asuka grits her teeth. “Who do you think you are talking to,” she mutters and ends the call. Misato knows very well she hates being treated like a kid -- or even worse, like an amateur.

After getting rid of the annoying outfit and wig, as she is back on the street to catch the bus, one thing makes Asuka wonder. She had one card, the other was still with the deadman, windows were intact. Just how exactly that other person made it inside? It would be impressive, if it wasn’t her who got outsmarted.

…

Generally speaking, Asuka likes her job. Well, maybe _like_ isn’t the best word to associate with being an assassin, but it’s not like she needs to put it in her resume as a hobby or anything; for that, she has engineering she is studying on the university. She especially likes doing the job by herself and when it goes smoothly. Unfortunately, sometimes neither of these are the case.

“We go along with the plan,” she says into her microphone, positioning her rifle on the edge of the roof. “First, you take down the three in the west corner, Third, you have the four next to the fountain. I take care of the rest.”

She hears indifferent “yes” and slightly annoyed “alright”. Her view down onto the spacious garden is just about right and the distance allows to make three clear shots in the blink of an eye. _Just to be done with it already_ , Asuka thinks to herself, _and go home to take a hot bath_.

“Go in three…” she counts, finger on the trigger, looking through the scope. “Two…”

Asuka doesn’t have a chance to finish because at this moment, the garden starts to fill with the smoke.

“What the…” she mutters under her breath, trying to see the targets from behind the smoke, but she only hears distant shots and screams.

“Is it some third party?” Shinji asks, picking Asuka’s instinct. It’s been two weeks since the incident at the hotel, so really, could it be just a coincidence? Unlikely.

“You two take care of the targets, I will try to corner that homewrecker,” she says, swinging her rifle across her back and getting to her feet.

Rei huffs quietly which is a sign that she doesn’t really approve, but isn’t going to say it out loud. Shinji, on the other hand, sounds overly critical as he starts, “That was not a part of the plan, you shouldn’t get…” but the rest of his worlds drowns in the noise she makes running down the staircase.

There are two ways out of the garden and one of them leads straight to the main street, the other to the left bank of the Tsurumi River. If it was a usual case, Asuka would head for the first one, but it isn’t a usual case, so she circles around the possession to get to the river. She knows she is right the second she hears the sound of the motorboat. When she makes it to the riverside, however, it’s already too late to continue the pursuit as there is no spare motorboat around. She kneels, panting hard and cursing, “Damn it!”

“Asuka?” She finally hears Shinji’s voice loud and clear. “Did you catch them or--”

“What are you, an idiot, calling me by name when we are on the mission?” she shouts back and practically sees him wincing. “Better tell me the status of the targets.”

“First finished off the last one just now,” Shinji answers with a sigh. “We can go back.”

“Well enough,” Asuka states, looking back to the disappearing boat. Just as she straightens her back, she notices something written down in the sand and it makes the corner of her left eye twitch as she kicks the sand away.

_too slow, hehe~_

…

The next time, Asuka is prepared.

It’s a sniper job again, so she picks the building with the best view of the street, making sure she is the first one here. According to the schedule, the target is supposed to leave the hotel within the next half of hour. It gives her just enough time to do what she wants to, so Asuka takes her exit to approach the building two blocks from this one; it’s less comfortable for a shooter, but still possible to go for a hit from there.

She doesn’t have to wait long; after a few minutes, a tall figure enters the rooftop with a rifle airly propped on the shoulder and a small backpack, humming a melody unknown to Asuka. To announce her presence, she points her rifle at the stranger and demands, “Drop your weapon and turn back.” The person stops in place, still humming.

“If you insist.” The reply comes in a cheerful, a bit snarky tone of a girl’s voice; for some reasons, Asuka is not surprised at all. And she is definitely not surprised when the other does as told, but after flashing a quick smile she starts to run for the edge of the roof.

Asuka manages to catch her and hook her leg around the other’s, tackling her down to the ground and resigning from guns for now. She snorts when the stranger says, “My my, this has gotten better than expected.”

“I’m not that slow, you know,” Asuka states, cracking her gloved knuckles. “And I hate when someone wrecks my jobs. So, let me ask directly: what the hell is your problem?”

The girl remains silent for a moment, breathing a little harshly in the uncomfortable position Asuka put her in. Eventually, she answers, “Well, just like you, I’m doing my job. And as it happens, our targets correspond.”

“This much I figured out on my own,” Asuka hisses. “Who do you work for?”

This time, the response is a laugh and, “This is strategically irrelevant. Besides, you should tell your superiors at NERV to check the intels more carefully.”

Asuka’s guard falls for exactly two seconds and it’s all the other needs to wriggle out of her grip. Strangely enough, however, she isn’t planning on running away, not immediately, anyway.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Asuka says after a moment, picking up her rifle to collect herself. “How much do you know?”

“I don’t know anything about you, don’t worry, Princess,” the girl replies, waving one of her hands dismissively as the other pushes up the glasses. “Apart from the fact that you have really nice statistics and you are fun to pick fights with, what is enough for me, really.”

“Don’t mock me, you Four-Eyes,” she barks, her finger twitching at the trigger. “I would like to take you down and get rid of the trouble, but it’s not that easy, unfortunately.” Asuka knows the rules, remembering how back in time when she had entered NERV Misato ran a whole lecture about not killing other assassins or agents of unknown allegiance unless it’s necessary. “So instead, maybe you should tell whoever you work for that screwing up _my_ assignments is a fucking wrong choice to make.”

The other seems to consider it and after a moment, she makes a gesture with her fingers like she is shooting Asuka -- it’s actually more teasing than threatening, but she stiffs anyway -- and declares, winking, “Alright, the next time we meet, I promise not to mess up your job.”

“Huh? That’s not what I--” Asuka snaps, but doesn’t finish the sentence, gritting her teeth instead. This girl is really getting on her nerves. “Anyway, I still have a thing to do, so get out, weirdo.”

Now it’s the brunette’s turn to pick up her rifle and just then she says, like she has just remembered something, “Ah, about the target, you don’t have to worry, I put a bomb under his car, so it’s fine.”

“ _What?_ ”

As to illustrate these words, Asuka hears an explosion and as she runs to the edge of the rooftop, she sees the target’s car, or rather, what’s left of it, burning and causing some panic and interest. She turns back to the homewrecker who fucked up her job _again_ , just to see her doing some kind of a salute as she calls out, “See you around, Princess!” and jumps down from the other side of the building.

Again, Asuka isn’t that much surprised when she sees a parachute swiftly making its way to the alley leading straight to the subway. If anything, she is pissed off. And maybe interested, though just a little bit.

…

When the summer break comes, Asuka is more than glad to welcome it. Not because she is particularly tired of classes or the university itself; if anything, she is tired of people. Now she is going to be free of unnecessary politeness and good-for-nothing chats for two weeks that can be spend on reading or exercising aka things to be done on your own, Asuka’s favourites.

She especially enjoys morning workouts at the nearby gym where everyone keeps to their own training routine and challenges, so she can listen to music and exercise in peace. When she decides to come back to her apartment on foot, the streets are just starting to fill with people and she stinks with sweet too much for anyone to try something stupid like pick up lines or gross stares.

This morning, however, when she stops by the shop to buy a bottle of water, someone decides to bother her.

“Hey, Princess, you had a good time of sweat, didn’t you?” Outside the shop, that damn Four-Eyes is sitting on an obnoxiously pink bike, elbows on the handlebars, dressed as she went on a bike ride and ended up meeting her completely accidentally. “But that’s fine, your smell is still present and nice, anyway.”

Asuka decides not to press the whole matter with smell -- it’s too weird to dwell on it -- and instead, she just asks, “What are you doing here?”

The other girl seems comically hurt as she raises her eyebrows, saying, “Fulfilling my promise, of course! Didn’t I say the next time we meet I’m not gonna cause you problems at the job?”

She can’t help it as her brows knit. She is still angry about that case with the blown up target; the amount of time she spent explaining it to Misato wasn’t worth even a yen and Asuka doesn’t like to have her time wasted. But bringing it up now would just annoy her even more, so she settles for a sip of cold water and after wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she tries again. “Alright, so what do you want?”

“I’ve been wondering if you would go with me to a bar tomorrow evening,” the brunette says smoothly, like she’s been waiting for this question with a ready answer. Which is likely.

Asuka just blinks at her, frowning even more, if that’s possible. “And what’s that supposed to mean? Are you like -- asking me out?” she sputters, realizing how it’s a -- crazy, but still -- possibility.

The girl laughs, her twin tails swinging back and forth. “Chill out, Princess,” she says when she catches a breath, “it’s not like I’m asking you to marry me or anything, right? You can call it a date if you want, if you don’t wanna, it’s fine as well.” She pops one of her elbows up and rests her chin on the open palm. “And please refrain yourself from frowning so much, your pretty face ain’t so pretty then. So?”

Given the situation, Asuka wants to refuse, but a suspicion raises in her brain as she glances over the girl in furiously red glasses, with hair combed like a schoolgirl and dressed as such, in that white t-shirt and jean shorts, one sneaker red, the other pink. Almost like on the contrary, the blue eyes behind these glasses seem amused, but observant, and who knows how many times these hands pulled a trigger or put a dirty bomb under some car. Maybe even more times than Asuka herself. Maybe this girl, who definitely is not sane, even by assassins’ standards, is smarter than she looks. And maybe -- now the bells in her mind ring like calling for an alarm -- since she knows about NERV, her motives are ulterior and not just playful.

“You think too much.”

Asuka winces, hearing the trace of amused boredom in the girl’s voice, but she collects herself quickly. “I don’t trust you, you damn Four-Eyes” she says quietly and as warily as she can -- it’s true, after all.

In response to this, the brunette shrugs. “I’m not asking you to trust me. I just want to see you killing it…” she makes a small pause, “...on the dancefloor, maybe?” Flashing a pleased smile, she adds, “That’s all there is to it, really.”

Looking away, further into the street, an idea appears in Asuka’s head. “There is a park down this street when you take a turn to left. You know where it is?” she asks out of the blue, gesturing a bit to the west. When the other girl nods, she continues, “Let’s have a race there. If you make it past the gate first, I will go with you to the bar. If I win, you will stop bothering me both during the work and my daily life.”

Four-Eyes seems to think about it for a moment and she says, “Sounds nice. But please, don’t sulk too much when you lose.”

“Funny,” Asuka mutters with a smirk, watching as the girl asks the shop owner if she can leave the bike at the back for some time. Being honest, she prefers slightly shorter distances, but there is a reason why she had an athlete scholarship back in time, isn’t there? “Like hell I will lose.”

…

Like hell she did.

It wasn’t exactly fair that at the last meters that glasses weirdo pretty much jumped through the open gate to the park, almost colliding with some older lady, but a win is a win and from now on, Asuka solemnly decided she is going to hate races longer than one eight hundred meters. And as the next day comes and they go to that seemingly shady bar in Shibuya (of which she has never heard), she swears she is going to apply this hate to such places as well.

Four-Eyes leads her through the glass door and the first bad impression somewhat softens seeing the inside of the bar. It’s being kept neat and simple, with maybe only ten round tables and fancy chairs, but there is also a billiard table and some young boys are playing darts. From the shiny new speakers, she hears the last tacts of one of The Killers’ songs.

“Yo, Mari, the usual?” the bartender in his mid thirties asks, grinning as they slid into stools by the counter. Asuka blinks, watching as the brunette nods and turns to ask her, “What for you, Princess?”

“Uh, Greyhound,” she says absent-mindedly and the man nods. It’s kinda funny, but it got to her just now: she went on something like a date with an assassin whose name she didn’t even know. The fact is so amusing, she can’t help but chuckle.

“What’s funny?” Mari (is that even her real name, though) asks curiously, putting her arms on the counter and watching her evenly.

“Do you know my name?” Asuka responds with a question.

“Hm? Oh, no.” Mari thanks the barman as their drinks are served; Asuka notices she ordered gin and tonic. “I assumed you would tell me it if _princess_ was bothering you.”

To refrain herself from making a snarky comment about it -- the whole “princess” thing did bother her, but she isn’t going to share her name just because of that -- Asuka decides to take a sip of her drink. Since she ended up here, she can try to enjoy things, after all.

“How do you like this place?” Mari asks, tapping out the rhythm of the song (some k-pop band if she is to guess) with her fingers.

Asuka thinks about the answer for a moment. “Not bad,” she states eventually. “Not your typical Japanese bar,” she adds, glancing at all the bottles on the display and black-white posters of various bands hanged on the walls.

“That’s right.” The girl nods, pushing up her glasses and taking a sip from her glass. “Many foreigners come here, so they have wide choice of drinks and music. The bartender is also the owner,” Mari points with her thumb at the man who is currently talking cheerfully to a couple by one of the tables, “and an old friend of mine, so I really like coming here.”

It makes Asuka wonder about few things, like Mari’s heritage (British, probably) or her music taste (actually, seems like someone who will enjoy anything she can sing along to), but one question she asks out loud. “Does this old friend knows who are you really?”

Mari shoots her a look -- it’s not intimidating or anything like this, more amused. “As far is he is concerned, I’m Mari Makinami Illustrious who likes odd jobs and girls who smell nice. And none of these is a lie,” she adds, more out of formality than for any other reason.

“Is that so,” Asuka mutters, more to herself than to the other girl. She picks up the glass and tries again, “But isn’t the job--”

She can’t finish the sentence because Mari’s index finger flies to her lips to silence her. With eyes sparkling behind the glasses, she states, “I didn’t ask you here to talk about work, Princess. Relax and have fun, I’m sure you can do that much.”

The immediate reaction Asuka has is annoyance (because it’s not like she doesn’t know how to have fun, alright), but it eventually loses to something else -- it’s a reluctant feeling of curiosity, about how things will go from now. So she just bats Mari’s hand away, settling for, “Tch, don’t you worry, Four-Eyes, I’m capable of many things.”

“I’m pleased to hear that and looking forward to find out,” Mari responds and if Asuka chokes on her drink it’s only because Mari’s voice suggested something really obnoxious.

But after all, it’s hard _not_ to think about their work as some time later these kids -- Asuka considers a kid anyone younger than her twenty two years of living -- challenge them to play and every dart Mari throws at the dartboard hits the target just as deadly as a knife would, not missing and humming all the way through. (Enough to say, the kids are devastated.)

It’s also hard not to think about a different kind of shots than tequila ones they end up having, round after round, making it a competition of sorts. But Asuka knows her tolerance of alcohol well enough to call it a lack of such tolerance, so sooner than later she doesn’t think too much. Mari, on the other hand, keeps babbling about things like fireworks at the summer festival and how parachuting should be made an olympic sport, so Asuka doesn’t need to trouble herself with coming up with the topics. When she glances at the clock on the wall, it’s well over nine and both of them are tipsy, yet still not that drunk. She realizes it’s time to go while she still can -- when she gets drunk, she becomes passive-aggressive and very clingy; it’s something she wouldn’t believe if she didn’t see photos once (and got rid of the evidence immediately after) -- but it’s not bad, to sit here, surrounded by the cosy artificial light, scent of tequila and background noises consisting of fast pop-rock rhythms and Mari’s slowly lingering words.

When they eventually leave the bar, it takes them a longer moment to remember the way to the nearest entrance to the subway and as they walk, their shoulders keep accidentally bumping and Mari talks less, but still gestures vividly. It actually starts to annoy Asuka, though now they are outside, many things do -- people passing by, fast cars, sharp neon lights. But really.

“Could you stop waving your hands and talking nonsense?” she pretty much barks, speaking for the first time since they left the bar.

Mari stops somewhere in the midway of the sentence and glances at her, blurring out loud, “Make me.”

If she gave it a thought, Asuka wouldn’t fall for such an obvious provocation so easily. But she didn’t, so that’s how she ends up pulling the collar of Mari’s shirt and kissing her on still half-open mouth. Not surprisingly, it tastes of tequila and chocolate cookies they had in the meantime, but what does surprise her is how well their lips fit together, despite the kiss being rather square and sloppy.

When she pulls back, Mari looks puzzled, but continues to walk, throwing over her shoulder enigmatic, “So you did fall for a trap I set so unintentionally, Princess.”

“It’s Asuka,” she says under her breath, not moving from her spot.

Mari look back at her, eyebrow raised. “What?”

“My name. It’s Asuka,” she repeats, feeling as her cheeks grow that rare shade of pink that makes her feel too exposed and she hates it.

But Mari just laughs and takes Asuka’s hand to pull her from place. “Alright, Princess,” she hums and somehow, this _princess_ doesn’t bother Asuka as much as it should.

(And if the autumn finds Mari sprawled on the bed in Asuka’s apartment, wearing nothing but pants, knee socks and a tank top as she flips through her books about engineering -- even though she should be getting ready for an assignment in Ikebukuro _and_ despite being explicitly told not to touch them -- all Asuka can do is to silence both her work phone and the personal one and try to kiss the stupidity out of her. Not for the first time, anyway.)


End file.
